Mishap
by ScaryScarecrows
Summary: Jonathan Crane has had his share of mishaps, but this one might be the worst.
1. Fuss

AN: Jonathan has no idea I'm posting this. Let's keep it that way.

At some point during _Thirty-One Days of Scarecrow_, Dragonknight4000 asked if we had ever ridden in the Batmobile. His reply was yes, after he'd been disemboweled. He wasn't kidding. Poor love somehow walked into his own scythe-I won't let him use those anymore, obviously-and nearly died. It was horrible.

As I said, he doesn't know I'm sharing. So keep quiet or I'll have to bring you in as lab rats to placate him and keep you from saying anything. -Kitty

She would have preferred to look after him herself, but-and oh, she hated to admit it-Arkham was better equipped. Broken bones she could manage. A full-on disembowelment? Perhaps it was best to let them take care of him.

_They'd better do it right or they'll be answering to me!_

She'd slipped in to see how he was doing before she left. He'd been asleep at the time and she hadn't woken him. He was probably drugged to the gills, anyway. Hopefully he was drugged to the gills.

It had taken several favors, but she'd convinced Nygma to hack a couple of cameras for her. If she couldn't be there, she could at least make sure they were doing their damn job. When she'd worked at the asylum, she had to be on the nurses with a goddamned whip sometimes.

So far they were being good. Not exactly nice, but they were checking on him at semi-regular intervals. Good enough. He hadn't woken up, as far as she could tell, and that was fine. That was ideal, really.

_Damn Batman, if I ever get my hands on him, so help me…_

She wondered if Batman's head would make a nice centerpiece. It would certainly be a nice conversational piece. 'Where did you find that?' 'Oh, I killed him and preserved his head.'

Maybe not. Too messy. And body parts had a way of smelling horrendous after a few days, no matter how well they were treated.

_Sorry son-of-a-bitch…_

God, she needed a nap. A nap and a cup of tea.

Two weeks. Two weeks and very little had happened. She supposed that was good. She'd much rather him be asleep for the duration.

She leaned back in her stolen squishy chair and sighed. Why weren't they minding him better? They should have been keeping a closer eye on him. They should have been monitoring his medication-he had a low tolerance for certain painkillers. And why the hell was he handcuffed to the bed? He wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't even conscious, for Christ's sake!

Incompetent morons. She'd have fired them on the spot if they'd worked for her.

He looked all right-apart from the handcuffs and everything-and she deemed it safe to get a drink and maybe something to eat. She really should pay him a visit soon.

Jonathan didn't like being in a drug-induced haze, but he liked not being in pain much more. Unfortunately, whatever they'd put him on was making him see things.

"Jonathan?"

"You're not here." he mumbled.

"How are you feeling?"

She was a very determined hallucination, he'd give her that.

"Terrible."

"You don't look good, love."

He forced his eyes open. She looked solid enough. She looked tired, too, and worried.

"Kitty?"

"Yeah."

"How'd you get in?"

"One of the guards is napping."

Oh. Lovely.

He closed his eyes again. He really wanted to go back to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, love." She gave him a kiss on the forehead. "See you soon."

And then she was gone and he was left to wonder if he'd imagined her or not.

Well, that was reassuring. He'd looked as good as could be expected, and he didn't have amnesia or anything. That was good.

She felt a little guilty for having to leave so soon, but she didn't really want to go to the trouble of breaking out _again_. She was lazy and it took effort. Besides, she would have to break him out soon enough anyway.

Speaking of…how, exactly, was that going to work? She was _not_ going to leave him in there for the entirety of this, just the worst of it. After that, she could take care of him at home…wherever home was at the time. So. How was she going to go about this?

There! She looked perfectly normal, just like any other doctor going into work that day. It took a bit of climbing to get past the security box at the front, but now she was inside, looking no more ruffled than she had this morning.

Well, maybe a little more ruffled. She didn't have a mirror.

"Hi, I'm here to check out Jonathan Crane?"

The desk girl didn't even look up. And they said this place was under better management…hah!

"Sorry, lady, Crane stays."

Time to up the bitchiness a notch.

"Would you let me see him, then?"

"Nope, no visitors."

The little upstart had the audacity to pop her gum! That was it, no more Miss Nice Kitty!

"No, I really you should let me see him. If you don't, you _might_ have time to kiss your sanity good-bye. Do I make myself clear?"

The girl looked up and her finger shot towards the security button.

"Touch that button and you'll be kissing your life good-bye instead, sweet pea." Her finger curled back against her palm. "Now. Jonathan Crane. We can do this the nice way or we can do this the fun way. You can have him brought out-and you'd better be nice, I'll know if you're not-or I can go and fetch him myself."

"H-he can't travel…"

"Yes, he can. Don't try to trick me, sweet pea, I've been keeping tabs. Now, pick up that phone." Her face was starting to hurt. How did people manage to smile all day? "Good girl. Call in and say that he's being transferred to Gotham general. And don't bother with the handcuffs. It's not him you have to worry about, after all."

The girl-Deborah-did as she was told. Her voice didn't even shake. Not bad. Maybe she'd last here at Arkham after all.

Well, until the Joker took a disliking to her, anyway.

They'd bothered with the handcuffs-ugh, there went another hairpin-and he was still drugged to the gills. Damn. Oh, well, she knew how to hot-wire a car. Shame it had to come to that, though.

"Thank you, sweet pea. Tip, though-call me 'lady' again and I will hunt you down and make you a very sad little girl. Have a nice afternoon."

She was a little surprised that he could walk on his own, even if it was more of a shuffle.

"You look terrible, love."

"Mm."

She propped him against the nearest car and went to work on it. Five minutes later-she was getting slow-they were driving down the freeway.

"All right…into bed with you, love."

He really didn't feel very well, but this bed was softer than the one in the hospital ward. And there was apple juice.

"Symptoms, please."

It took him a minute to remember what 'symptoms' meant.

"A little nauseous, headache, drowsy…"

"Okay. Drink this and go back to sleep."

Mm. Apple juice. He felt a little more awake now, awake enough to open his eyes and look at his surroundings. Kitty really did look worried. He wondered why. He was over the worst of it, as far as he could tell.

"Kitty?"

She sat down very carefully next to him.

"You had me worried, Jonathan." He didn't say anything. "How in the world did you manage…"

"Batman startled me, that's all." He didn't like being reminded, thanks. "I'm fine."

"Never do that again." she whispered. "Promise me you'll never, _ever_ scare me like that again."

He was tempted to remind her that he was the Master of Fear, and that scaring people was his job, but he didn't.

"Promise."

"Okay, love." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and tugged his blankets up to his shoulders. "Get some sleep, yeah? You look exhausted."

He felt exhausted, too-like he'd gone too long without eating.

"Kitty?"

"Mm?"

"Stay in here."

"You thought I'd leave? I don't trust you to stay in bed."

"Work is the last thing on my mind right now." He yawned and closed his eyes. "Believe me."

"I know. Go to sleep, Jonathan. I'll stay."

Good.

He didn't quite believe her until she made herself comfortable next to him and opened her book.

"Night, Kitty."

She ruffled his hair-the drugs must have made it a more tolerable feeling than usual. Or he was too tired to care.

"Night, love."

He lay there, listening to the turning pages, for several minutes.

"Kitty?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Go to sleep." she said softly. "You'll be fine."

That wasn't what he'd meant at all, but whatever.

It didn't take him long to doze off.

Kitty waited for Jonathan to fall asleep before setting her book down and looking over at him. She'd given him a brief check-up when they got in, but she hadn't really _looked_ at him.

He was thinner than he'd been before, and paler, and obviously exhausted. He'd have a scar on his stomach, she knew that, but that was nothing new. It would blend right in with the others, the ones from the birds and their former classmates.

He groaned and opened his eyes. Shit. Busted.

"Kitty?"

"Hey."

"What time is it?"

"Never you mind."

He looked over at her with bleary eyes. He oughtn't be awake at all, really.

"But…"

"Go back to sleep."

"Head rub." he murmured sleepily. "Please, Kitty."

She was hesitant to touch him, but he'd asked…

"All right."

He nudged his head against her hand. He probably wouldn't remember this once the drugs wore off.

"Feels good."

"How are you feeling?"

"Mm." He moved a bit to rest his head against her stomach. "M'okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Go back to sleep, love."

"How did I end up in…"-yawn-"in Arkham?"

"Batman took us. I suppose he felt guilty for…um…"

"Startling me into my own scythe?"

"Something like that."

"We were in the Batmobile?"

"Yes. It was horrible. If you think I'm a terrible driver, you should see him."

That got a laugh out of him. She move her hand to his neck instead and felt him purr. Good. Perhaps he was going to go back to sleep soon.

"That bad?"

"Horrendous." He took a deep breath and finally sat up, wincing and reaching for his glasses. "What are you doing?"

"You look terrible."

"Every girl wants to hear _that_."

"Have you slept at all?"

"A bit…"

"Kitty."

"A little bit…"

He shook his head and settled back down, clutching his apple juice. Why did he have to make her feel so _guilty_? It was his fault she hadn't slept, after all!

"And you tell me to go to bed on time."

"I'm fine."

"Humph."

"I'm not the broken one here, love. Don't lecture me."

"Regardless…"

"No."

This wasn't over, she just knew it, but he dropped it for the time being. Good. She wasn't in the mood for a discussion. She just wanted to go back to her book and relax for a little while.

"Please tell me you're not going to catch pneumonia or something."

"I refuse."

"I don't think illnesses work that way."

"I refuse." she said again. "And that's final."

"Final?"

"Final."

He shook his head and took his glasses off. She settled back with her book in one hand and the other hand resting on his head. Things were finally going back to normal. About time.

Six months. Six long, horrible months with nothing to do but read and watch TV. She wouldn't even let him look over his notes! He could practically feel his brain shriveling away into dust.

But finally, _finally_ she had given him permission to go downstairs. He didn't recall being so shaky before, and it took him a few minutes to get down.

The first floor was empty except for a young woman tied to a chair. His mask and toxins were on a table a few feet away.

**_Heya, Jonny._** Scarecrow stretched and shook himself out. **_What the hell happened?_**

_Ready to get back to work?_

**_Huh…oh, yeah. Fetch my face._**

She was a screamer. Perfect. It really did feel good to get back to work.

THE END


	2. Resurrection

AN:_ I didn't know about this until quite recently. No wonder Jervis was so nervous around him...bloody idiot._

SwordStitcher-_I find no amusement in the situation. If you'd seen the blood...as for the favours, yes. They were massive. But not as massive as they could have been-you'd be amazed what some blubbering and clinging can accomplish. Feminine weakness and_ _all...or maybe he just wanted me to shut up._

Jasmine Scarthing-_Kitty, sweetie. Believe you me, Jonathan would skip over everything except, 'disemboweled, turned out fine.' Rubbish. From what I could tell, they had a couple of touch-and-go nights. But I could just be paranoid. He has a tendency to cause that with me._

Dragonknight4000-_That's what I told him! Before any of that happened, I might add. 'Love, are you sure that's a good idea?' 'Of course it's a good idea!' Next thing I know, I'm in that safety hazard of a tank with no seatbelts. If he ever scares me like that again, so help me..._

* * *

"Big Joe" Hardy and "Knobby Nick" Bell worked for the Joker and the Mad Hatter, respectively. They were good at their job, which consisted of looking intimidating, pounding the crap out of any potential threats, and driving like hell to get away from the police. They were also more talkative than a pair of old women.

"Yeah, I hear he died."

"We should be so lucky. Scrawny bastard's too mean to die."

"Uh-uh." Knobby Nick wagged a finger. "Nobody survives their intestines fallin' out. Trust me, I seen it done. Nasty way to go."

"You're shittin' me!"

"Nope. I hear he walked into one of his own traps. Swoosh!" He mimed something swinging. "I'm tellin' ya, we're quit of him. Probably crawled back home to die."

They laughed, albeit nervously. Big Joe looked around as if expecting someone to pop up any minute.

"You're sure?"

"Pfft. Pretty sure. Thank god-I didn't much appreciate him throwin' visions of me ma in my face."

"What?"

"Fucker gassed me! Out of nowhere! I was delieverin' somethin' from the Hatter and he gassed me! Me poor dead ma came up outta nowhere, all decayed. It was awful."

They shuddered.

"Sorry bastard. Good rid…"

"Good evening."

Fuckity.

"Don't mind me. Your conversation was quite interesting. Do continue."

"M-Mr. Scarecrow, sir…"

"Tell me, do your employers know that you're standing out here, gabbing away like a pair of old women?"

"S-sir…"

"So hard to find good help in this town, I ask you…" He folded his glasses and stepped away from the wall, pulling that god-awful mask over his head. "So fortunate for me that I happened to be walking by just now. Wouldn't you agree?"

Nope. And they couldn't even rush him-that tactic always ended badly.

"Um…"

"So. Who would like to go first?"

All bets were off. Friendly loyalty was no match for self-preservation.

There was a scuffle as they both tried to make a run for it, followed by the hellish noise of an aerosol can. Thirty seconds later, the unlucky henchmen dropped to the ground, shrieking in terror.

The Scarecrow smirked behind his mask and stepped over their writhing forms. He liked coming back from the dead! He should do it more often.

Now, onwards to the Walgreens! They were out of both needles and watermelon gum, and that was a tragedy waiting to happen.

THE END


	3. Mishap

AN: _Oh, don't mind me. By all means, continue giggling about something so mundane as nearly dying. So help me, if it was anyone else...this is not over. Not at all. Roaches may be called for._

Dragonknight4000-_Kinermorophobia: _f_ear of 'zombies'-a fear I will never be able to properly study, due to lack of such fanciful creatures. As for the gum... I'm allergic strawberry and I hate mint._

* * *

It didn't hurt for ten long seconds. Ten seconds of complete and utter shock, the adrenaline still strong in his veins. He felt his legs give out after eleven seconds, and by the full minute mark he was well aware that he was going to die.

Funny, he thought hazily. He, the Master of Fear, had been scared by the Batman. That fear had driven him into his own scythe. So, in a way, fear was what had killed him. Oh, the irony.

He was moving. Why was he moving? Where was he going? Where was Kitty?

"Hold on, Crane."

Batman? No! Wherever the Batman was taking him, it couldn't be good. He wanted to be put down right now.

He got his wish. He was in what felt like a car. Why was he in a car? Where were they going?

He coughed-owww-and tried to open his eyes to see his surroundings. They refused to obey and he blacked out just as the car started.

THE END


End file.
